


Roulette

by gigiree



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 23:17:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5310869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gigiree/pseuds/gigiree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a gamble and both players have the advantage. Chest Kiss prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roulette

It’s a strange set of circumstances.

He knows. She doesn’t.

Oh but Chat Noir is selfish. Cats only get so many blessings, particularly black ones and he is going to draw this one out for as long as he can.

But he’s risking so much when he does this.

He smiles at Marinette, silhouetted by Paris’ hazy lights and the smattering of stars that wink as cheekily as he does. 

There’s a dare in his grin, a challenge in his eyes and in the way he lets them trail over her slim form clad in enticingly pink spotted pajamas. He drags his sight, slowly…patiently from her blue painted toenails peeking from her slippers and up to the blue halo shifting in her black hair, reflecting the fairy lights behind him.

He stalks closer and closer, only made even more eager by the wry twist of her mouth and the mocking of her laughter when she wags her finger at him.

“Are you lost,  _my little cat_? Do you want some milk and cookies?” She teases, but he can see that she’s had her _before-bedtime_ snack. There’s still some crumbs on the collar of her flannel top, and he knows he’s caught her just right before she prepared for bed.

He wonders how he never noticed it before. Marinette is Ladybug. It’s proven in the way she calls him  _her_  little cat, and laughs and teases and smells and plays and argues and leads.

_It’s her._

Something in that knowledge, that he keeps selfishly to himself, makes him move forward. Tonight he is both the croupier and the gambler. He spins the wheel and sets the ball, silently praying and hoping that all his bravado will not be in vain.

It’s his worst fear, but  _oh heavens_ is it worth the gamble.

“Princess, I would love some milk…but it’s a different sweet I  _crave_ tonight.”

He’s delighted to see the lovely red infuse her cheeks, and he knows it’s not because of the cold because it hadn’t been there before. But the reaction is unexpected, because he’s never sure if Ladybug blushes. Not when her mask covers the tops of her cheeks and any red could be attributed to the starkness of her uniform coloring what little skin was visible.

He finds that his first spin had been somewhat lucky, so he goes for a second.

He stalks forward. There really is no other word for the way his long legs smoothly close the distance between him and her. 

He stops only a foot away, muscles coiled and tightly sprung, ready to spin again should she respond with a gamble of her own.

“Let’s play a game, kitty cat.”

He snickers softly when she flicks the bell at his neck, the hollow ringing a death knell for his gravitas. She’s got him by the heart, her fingers already so fatally close to where it beats in his chest, all for her.

But he spins again, because it is a death he would gladly risk.

“The stakes, my…princess.” He falters for a bit, because she’s somewhere in between Marinette and Ladybug now, and he has trouble speaking past the beating heart in his throat, blocking up any and all smooth rejoinders he may have had.

Something in her eyes shines through as she looks up at him, and he can see it swimming just beneath the surface of those pretty blues. It’s soft and timid, and he’s not used to this tenderness. It’s a little too much when he realizes she’s placing a lot on the table for this gamble…exactly what he hasn’t a clue, but it’s important to her.

“My turn.” She whispers soft and low, and he doesn’t even remember taking his when she cradles his face in her hands.

Her lips press gently, as softly as the winking fairy lights in the corner of his sight. She brushes them softly against the edge of his mask, her warm breath ghosting over the small hairs at his temples as she moves her kiss to just above his ears.

Her thumbs caress where her lips have seared, and her sigh is troublingly sad and sweet, like the vestiges of childhood parting on dreams lost and experiences gained.

It’s his turn to spin the wheel.

So he places his kiss on her forehead, and keeps it there. 

It’s his hands that roam instead. His claws skim her slim shoulders, trail down her arms and come to rest on her hips, pressing just as lightly as her kiss had.

Her breath hitches at that, and oh does it make him feel happy about the stakes he has placed. But he’s selfish…and a liar. The collateral he’s placed is one he’s placed before. She’s won it too, just never collected. So he’s cheating, but it’s the best he’s got to offer.

She seems to know this, because it’s only then that she moves forward, and wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace. It’s only then that she takes into account how tall he’s grown over the past two years, and she is pleased to find that her face is right at his chest.

She completes the gamble when she turns her face against the soft leather of his suit, and puts her mouth against the warmth of his crazily beating heart. She’s accepted his stakes. His bet.

And by doing so, she has let him win.

But Marinette is not a girl without some aces up her sleeve, and she doesn’t know if they’re still playing roulette when she plays it.

_“Thank you…Adrien.”_

His expression is taken aback, but he cannot leap out of her embrace in shock or hurt or anything because she’s clinging onto him so tightly. She’s trembling and flushed and fevered, and tears have started running down her cheeks.

He begins to laugh. And when her cries devolve into a laugh of her own, sweet and not mocking or teasing but wholeheartedly in love and laughing at the circumstances that life and luck have put them into, he answers.

_“You’re welcome, My Lady.”_

They want to talk. To let it all out, and discuss how’s and why’s and what-if’s, but the moon is bright and their gambles have paid off.

There is love and their hearts have been taken and accepted with the joy of something pleasantly unexpected. It’s a bit complicated, but the game wouldn’t have been fun otherwise.

And they’re both selfish enough to want to keep playing even if there’s a lot to discuss.

So when Chat Noir leans forward to steal a kiss, a real one this time, Marinette places her fingers to his mouth and her mouth twists into that wry smile he loves so much.

“You play a dangerous game _, my kitty_.”

He chuckles before gently intertwining her fingers with his own, and setting them both over his heart, beating all for her; Marinette who is Ladybug who is Marinette.

It’s a wonderful, turning roulette and he’s hopelessly, happily, haplessly caught in its maddening spin.

“This was just a practice round,  _my Princess_. Let’s play for real this time.”

She answers his challenge.The game barely begins when she leans forward, meets him halfway and realizes that despite the changes in rules, the gamble remains very much the same. 

Her heart in his hands. His in hers. His lips on hers, his hands through her hair, hers sliding up his back, tracing dips and sinew that shifts deliciously below his suit.

They make their moves, a little clumsily because this is their first real relationship.

The moon laughs full and bright as it looks upon the two playing a dangerous game. It’s a lovely sight, but it’s unclear who the winner really is when they kiss so fervently. 

What happens next is up in the air, but it’s a game willingly left for the future where luck looms bright and prizes are cherished like treasures irreplaceable. But to any watching, the chances of the kitty and lady staying together seem to be fairly high.

Place your bets, Ladies and Cats…the game has just begun.


End file.
